


Twisted

by Dellessa



Series: Night Cycle Verse [2]
Category: Transformers Animated (2007), Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, Character Death, M/M, Mech Preg, Sticky Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 05:42:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dellessa/pseuds/Dellessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mech was old. Far older than any mech Prowl had met in his lifetime, and deceptively small for all of the power that he radiated. That more than anything piqued Prowl’s interest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twisted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thepheonixqueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepheonixqueen/gifts).



Title: Twisted  
Verse: G1 AU with bits of Animated.  
Series: Night Cycle Verse  
Rating: M  
Warnings/Content: Character Death. Vampires. Blood play. Sparklings. Allusions to mech preg.  
Pairings/Characters: Prowl/OC, Prowl/Xaaron.  
Notes: Not mine!!!  
Prompt: Pheonix asked for: a sort of prologue of the praxians with showing prowl being turned and their first lives.  
Words: 3046  
A Kilovorn ago...  
  
Prowl sat back and watched his bonded playing with their newest sparkling. While he cared for the mech greatly he had long ago realized that they would never be more than friends. It was a bonding of convenience, and he was only relieved that he had never been forced to bond his spark to the mech. He could not quite bring himself to take it that far.  
  
His creators did not force the point. They were more than content that he had even agree to the political alliance. They were equally pleased that he had wasted no time in producing his heir. Equinox exceeded their expectations. When Coda had wanted more he had not protested. He did not LOVE his consort, but he did care for him greatly. His happiness mattered, and it was clear to Prowl that Coda adored all four of their offspring.  
  
He felt lucky that he had ended up with someone that he got on so well with and could be counted on as a friend. At the same time he was the least bit jealous of Barricade. That had been a love match. Granted, he was not sure how long it would last. Crystalwave was a sickly mech. Even so Barricade and Crys seemed bent on repopulating the colonies of Cybertron. So it seemed to Prowl. He couldn't quite imagine having six little sparkling running around, or a mate who seemed to always be ill when he was not carrying.  
  
Despite all of this, Prowl sometimes envied his youngest brother, Smokescreen, who seemed to careen through life without any responsibilities. It was Smokescreen who brought Xaaron to court. The Iaconian seemed harmless at first, and Prowl was drawn to him, although he could not entirely say why.  
  
The mech was old. Far older than any mech Prowl had met in his lifetime, and deceptively small for all of the power that he radiated. That more than anything piqued Prowl’s interest.  
  
“Your majesty? Your processor seems to be in the clouds this cycle,” Xaaron purred into his audial.  
  
“No, I’m...I’m fine Emirate,” Prowl said, flustered. He watched the gold mech as he sat across for him. It was as if Prowl had conjured him up by merely thinking of the mech.  
  
“Mmmm...that is a pleasing thing to hear, I would hardly want you to be out of sorts,” the gold mech’s lips curled into an amused smile. He leaned in, his field flickering out to touch Prowl’s in a fleeting caress.  
  
Prowl’s optics flared brightly, surprised that the mech would dare that. “Ah,” he drew away, mortified at how his core temperature spiked whenever he was near Xaaron.    
  
As much as he was drawn to the mech, he also was left feeling uneasy. He had been having the oddest flux dreams since the mech arrived. Dreams of the mech drinking his energon, and drinking the bot’s energon in turn. It left him hot and bothered. Worse still when he had interfaced with Coda he could think of nothing but the gold bot. It was becoming a bit of an obsession, which disturbed Prowl still more.  
  
His fans kicked on, after he had over-rode them twice, and he would have pulled away had Xaaron not caught his hand, twisting it the mech brought Prowl’s palm to his lips, pressing a kiss there. “Just Ah? Surely my prince is more articulate than that?”  
  
“I’m sorry. I have not been recharging well.” Prowl said, trying to pull his hand away, but Xaaron’s hand tightened around it. His grip surprisingly strong.  
  
“Perhaps I could help you with that,” Xaaron murmured, drawing Prowl’s hand back up to his mouth. He nestled the delicate plates and wiring of Prowl’s wrist, tongue darting between seems. There was a stinging sensation that was nearly instantly drowned out by a flood of pleasure. He didn’t know what Xaaron was doing, but it felt incredible.  
  
Prowl whimpered, and the whimper turned into a moan as Xaaron sucked on the wound. He burned, and would have melted against the golden bot if hands had not fastened around his arm, pulling him away.  
  
Coda glared daggers at Xaaron. “What are you doing?”  
  
“Not a thing,” Xaaron smirked leaving off the Prince consort’s title on purpose.  


OoOoOoOoOo

  
“Prowl, please stay away from him. I don’t like the way he looks at you,” Coda said, moving from ped to ped looking anxious. He took Prowl’s hand, turning it over, and frowned at the wound there that still lazily seeped mech-blood. “What did he do to you?”  
  
Prowl jerked his hand away, “Nothing. He didn’t do a thing.”  
  
Coda flinched at Prowl’s tone. His bonded never snapped at him. He had always kept his temper in check where Coda was concerned. “Clearly he has. You have acted odd since he came here. You should get that wound seen to,” he continued, optics flicking up to watch Prowl.    
  
“It’s fine.”  
  
“It doesn’t look fine,” Coda sighed. “It looks...” a frown marred the Grey bot’s face, “Like a bite.”  
  
Prowl glared at him. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he finally said stomping away in a rare fit of temper.    
  
Coda could only stare at the Praxian’s retreating back and try to understand what was going on.  
  


OoOoOoOoOo

  
Prowl tossed and turned on his berth, drifting in and out in recharge. He felt delirious, as if he had consumed too much high-grade. His plating burned, and his lines leaving him whimpering. Coda did not come, but the gold mech did. It all seemed a very odd recharge flux, the mech’s hands moving all over his chassis until his plating was burning, only for the heat to be quenched by the chill plating pressed against his. It felt so very real to Prowl, and not real at all.  
  
He was pushed onto his back a heavy weight settling there pressing into the berth, pressing against his doorwings. A hand caressed his helm, gripped it tightly angling it to the side, then a searing pain as something pierced the back of his neck. It burned and the burn slowly unfurled into the most exquisite pleasure Prowl had ever felt. He clung to the dream. It was a dream. It had to be. He convinced himself of that. Xaaron could not possibly be in the room with him. The world went dark at the edges, and no matter how hard he tried to cling to it he lost his grip and the word went dark around him plunging him into a true recharge.  
  
He woke joors later to an insistent pounding on his door. He buzzed the door open, glaring balefully when Coda came in. “You never answered. I was---I was getting worried.”  
  
“I’m fine,” Prowl snapped, turning his back to the mech, he stiffened at Coda’s loud intake of breath.  
  
“You are wounded,” Coda said, moving closer. He put a hand on the wound, it came back wet with mech-blood which was welling up from the wound on the back of Prowl’s neck.  
  
“I just scratched myself,” Prowl said, shrugging it off. “Don’t you have other things to do than pester me?”  
  
“You never thought my concern was a bother before,” Coda whispered. “And you have been avoiding the bitlets. They miss you.”  
  
“I don’t have time for this,” Prowl said, looking away, his optics had a distant look to them as if he was focusing on something only he could see.  
  
Coda watched Prowl, his spark pounding in his chest. “Prowl...what is wrong with you?”  
  
“There is nothing wrong. i just want you to leave me be,” the prince said, and turned away.  
  


OoOoOoOoOo

  
The situation escalated leaving Coda confused and half sick with worry at the changes he saw in Prowl. The mech’s mood swings became worse and his obsession with Xaaron bordered on unhealthy. He had begged and pleaded with Prowl, but it was too little avail. He saw little choice but to plead his case to the king and queen.  
  
Nightshade watched her son’s consort fidget and finally come forward. Coda was not normally a nervous bot. “What is wrong, child?”  
  
Coda vented, the grey mech’s doorwings fluttering behind him, a clear sign of agitation. “I am concerned. Prowl has not been himself of late. I fear, I’m sure it has something to do with Xaaron. I have seen wounds on Prowl and...I am sure that the mech is the root of the problem.”  
  
Nightshade frowned, “Wounds?”  
  
“Yes. Like bite marks. He gets so defensive when I ask of them.”    
  
The queen nodded, “I...shall speak to the king of it. Rest easy child, I will remedy this issue.”  
  
He bowed deeply, finding his own way out, and was not surprised when Xaaron was banished from court. He could not miss the glare the golden mech sent him upon his departure. It sent a cold chill down Coda’s spinal strut. This wasn’t over. He had that feeling. Xaaron would be back, despite what the queen and king said.  
  
The cycles passed, and things made a turn for the worse. The king became ill. None of the medics of physicians seemed to be able to stop him from wasting away until one day his spark simply fluttered and snuffed out. Prowl was beside himself with grief, clinging to his one living parent, dread filled Coda. He knew how this would roll out.  
  
They watched as Nightshade slowly drifted away. It seemed, towards the end, that there was little anchoring her spark down to this plane. Her attention turned inward, lost in her own grief. Within a metacycle her spark extinguished as well, joining her bondmates.  
  
Not for the first time Coda was glad he had never insisted that Prowl sparkbond to him. The thought that his death causing Prowl’s left him unhappy, unsettled.  
  
“They are together at least.” Coda murmured watching Prowl’s face at they sat through the second interment in the tombs below the city proper.  
  
All of Praxus mourned their king and queen, and not a few of them worried that Prowl was not fit to rule. Coda on the other hand feared that Xaaron would return, and no small part of him also wondered if the deaths were the golden bot’s doing.  
  
Prowl’s erratic behavior had worsened if anything. He walked about in a daze. It was all Coda could do to keep the bot’s tanks full. He never ate on his own, he rarely recharged, and when he did he tossed and turned all night cycle. He cried out in his recharge, begging Xaaron to take him back. To save him.  
  
It made Coda’s energon run cold through his lines.  
  


OoOoOoOoOo

  
Prowl never came to him anymore. He seemed to never leave his rooms. It was no way to rule a city-state, but that seemed to be the last thing on Prowl’s mind. Instead he locked himself in his rooms, Coda had thought alone, but the shouting he heard from the hall told him a different story. He used his over-ride code to open the door. He stepped inside and nearly scuttled back, but something froze him in place. Prowl writhed on the bed, crying out at Xaaron rode him.  
  
The golden mech’s mouth was nestled against Prowl’s neck cording. When he pulled away his mouth was smeared in mech blood. He turned, spotting Coda he was on the mech faster than Coda could blink, teeth plunging into the small grey bot’s neck. Coda cried out, struggling against Xaaron, crying out for Prowl, but his mate never stirred. The gold mech drank until there was little energon left in Coda’s lines. He let the mech fall to the ground.  
  
Coda’s spark flickered in his chest and finally guttered, the greying frame sprawled like a broken doll on the floor.  
  
Prowl finally stirred, looking uneasy. “Coda?”    
  
“He won’t be a problem any longer,” Xaaron purred, pushing the Praxian down. He bit back down, drinking until Prowl was weak beneath him, and finally slit a line in his own wrist and pushed it to Prowl’s mouth. “We will always be together, no one else will stand in my way. Ever.”  
  
Prowl clung to him weakly. His mind whirling over Xaaron’s words as the world finally went dark around him.    
  


OoOoOoOoOo

  
  
Prowl came online, feeling...odd. An odd hunger burned through him. He didn’t entirely understand it.  
  
“Oh, my beautiful one. You are finally risen,” Xaaron purred against his audial, nuzzling into him.  
  
Prowl looked past Xaaron, his optics settling on Coda’s greyed frame. It was as if ice was growing in his lines. Everything suddenly horrifyingly clear. “What have you done?” he asked, shaking.  
  
Xaaron frowned, “I rid us of a niggling problem, that is all my love.”  
  
Prowl edged away, “But...I cared for him. He was my consort.”  
  
Xaaron made a hmm’ing noise, pulling Prowl to him. “Perhaps I could let you turn your brothers, would that not make up for it, sweeatspark? They would be with you forever then, my love. Just the four of us. Wouldn’t you like that?”  
  
Prowl relaxed, his processor whirling. It would keep his brothers safe at least. “I would.”    
  
Apparently it was the right thing to say. Xaaron positively beamed, “Perhaps we could even make a game of it. Chase them down. Wouldn’t that be fun?” the gold mech purred, seemingly unaware of the way Prowl’s tank was rolling at the thought.  
  
“But you will let me turn them?”  
  
“Yees, and then we will feed on the rest. It will be glorious.”  
  
“The rest?” it shook Prowl inside to ask. He thought of his sparklings and shook in fear.  
  
“Oh, sweetspark. You don’t need them any longer, and beside, sparkling energon is the sweetest. Maybe I will even call the rest of my coven for this. Shockwave would take great joy in it, I’m sure.”    
  
Prowl was floored for a moment, but he processed the information fast. “No, we should share it between us.” He forced himself to smile, and he leaned in, catching Xaaron’s lips. Barricade and Smokescreen would help him kill this monster. They had to.  
  


OoOoOoOoOo

  
Smokescreen struggled feebly against him, he was too far gone before he even realized the danger to do any real damage. He whimpered, trying to push Prowl away.  
  
Prowl finally pulled away, watching Barricade watch him from the other side of the room. He pressed his wounded wrist plating making Smokescreen drink. Glancing up and watching Barricade draw closer.  
  
Smokescreen clung to him, whimpering.  
  
“What are you doing?” Barricade growled, stalking closer, energon blade bared. “Let him go, brother.”  
  
“It’s too late,” Prowl said as he let Smokescreen fall to the floor. “I’m sorry, brother. I can’t do this without you.”  
  
He lunged, moving faster than Barricade’s optics could track, far faster than he should have been able to. The energon blade skittered across the floor, and Prowl pinned Barricade.  
  
“I’m so sorry, brother,” Prowl hummed and leaned forward nuzzling Barricade’s neck cording. “I’m so very sorry.” He sunk his fangs in, drinking deeply until Barricade stopped struggling against him.  
  


OoOoOoOoOo

  
  
Xaaron did not wait for the new fledglings to rise. He stalked through the palace, draining whatever poor bots he came upon- he had one goal in mind: the nursery. He smiled hungrily, anticipating the feast. The little blue Polyhexian that barred his way hardly made him pause. “Stay back,” the mech quivered holding an energon blade before him.  
  
Xaaron laughed, “Or what, little mech? You will cut me?” He smirked, “One would wonder what would attract Barricade to such a frail thing. A useless thing. Well, had I not other plans I would let him drain you dry.”  
  
Crystalwave’s optics widened and he took a step back, screaming when Xaaron lunged, ripping into his neck cording.  
  
He let the greying body fall to the floor as the princes walked up, optics blazing.    
  
“Xaaron,” Prowl said, he optics narrowing.  
  
“You are just in time,” the golden mech leered, his optics settling on Barricade as he fell to his knees beside Crystalwave’s offlined frame, he gathered his mate to him, rage radiating off of him. He lunged at Xaaron before Prowl could hold him back.  
  
“You monster,” Barricade screamed, pulling at plating, ripping through energon lines. The old vampire reeled back, skittering away from Barricade until he hit the door, and tumbled through. The younglings inside ran away, screaming as the vampire hit the floor in their midst.  
  
Prowl’s oldest youngling, Equinox pushed the other bitlets farther into the room as far away from the vampire, and their enraged creators. They huddled in a corner, the oldest covering the optics of the youngest, shielding them from the sight of the three elder Praxians tearing the vampire apart. It seemed to go on forever.  
  
Until, finally, silence hung heavily over the room, only broken by the whimpering of one of the youngest sparklings.    
  
“Creator?” Equinox moved over to where Prowl kneeled on the floor, Xaaron’s lifeless spark in his hands. He let it drop, and open his arms for the youngling.  
  
“I’m sorry, Nox.” he pulled his youngling to him, holding him tightly. “I’m so sorry.” Psrowl did not know how he could ever make it up to his younglings, not for their carriers death, and not for Crystalwave’s either. He could feel Barricade’s pain even now. It was all his fault, and for once he did not how he could ever fix it.  
  


OoOoOoOoOo

  
  
Barricade raged against the changes in their life. Crystalwave’s death seemed to have broken something in him. It made him hard, and angry. Prowl could not blame him. He had, after all ruined so much. Hurt so many. And the sparklings. His spark broke to pieces when he thought of them, but...he knew he did the right thing sending them away. They would be safe at the cottage, and they had a lot of mechs to look after them. Crystalwave’s brother, Serendipity, had traveled from Polyhex to take care of them. He was one of the few mechs that Prowl trusted to take the sparklings needs to spark.  
  
As much as it broke his own spark, enraged Barricade, he knew the farther away from them they were, the safer, and nothing could convince him otherwise.  
  


OoOoOoOoOo

 

Notes:  
-Kilovorn - Cybertronian millennium - 1,000 Cybertronian years (8,333 Earth years.)  
Pre-turning-Royal family-  
[Praxus](http://tfwiki.net/wiki/Praxus)-Lighthold (Eventualy the new city will be built over it.)  
Bastion and Nightshade- King and Queen of Praxus.  
Prowl, Barricade, Smokescreen.  
Prowl/Coda- Equinox, Counterpoint, Verse, Downbeat  
Barricade/Crystalwave (Crys)-Serendipity, Patience(Black praxian-twins), Fortitude(Grey-twins), Clarity(White and blue), Candor(Blue and grey), Veracity(Dark Blue with a black chevron.)  
Smokescreen-no offspring. Was not bonded.


End file.
